


And Still Have Begged for More

by lavendermermaid



Series: On the Street Where You Live [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Dancing with Lots of Dips, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Explicit Consent, First Time, Minor Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Other, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Vaginal Sex, Virgin Aziraphale (Good Omens), Virgin Crowley (Good Omens), lots of smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 21:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20646308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendermermaid/pseuds/lavendermermaid
Summary: "During one dip in particular, Crowley noticed something had changed.  There was something different in the way Aziraphale’s hand supported his back, something new and dark about Aziraphale’s eyes.  Aziraphale held Crowley there a moment longer than usual.  He licked his lips and let his eyes trail down the exposed skin on Crowley’s torso.  He’d wanted to kiss Crowley hard, before, when he’d had him against the wall, wanted to rip the buttons open, and...well, he’d had to stop his mind from going further than that."





	And Still Have Begged for More

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much again to andysmountains for all the help, especially with the sex scene!

Crowley awoke to the sun streaming in through his window and stretched out. It was an entirely new feeling: he’d never woken up  _ happy  _ before. 

The happiness quickly faded when he realized Aziraphale was not, in fact, in bed with him. Either the entirety of the night before had been an odd, cruel dream, or Aziraphale had realized he was being foolish and had scampered off to do something reasonable with his time.

But then he noticed the flower. A single gardenia, white with a little yellow around the edges, stood in an elegant glass vase - was that the St. Germain bottle from last night? - on his bedside table. The delicate perfume filled the room, and reminded Crowley of Aziraphale’s scent. Maybe it had all been real after all.

He wandered out of the room to find Aziraphale in the kitchen, working away at the stove. The kitchen counter was covered in beautifully presented food: sliced fruits arranged like flowers, pastries decorated with colored frosting, champagne flutes holding nothing but sprigs of lavender.

“Someone’s been busy.”

“Ah, ‘morning, love! Did you know that every Tuesday morning, there’s a farmer’s market out there? Just right there on your street! I found so many delightful things to purchase for our breakfast.” He turned around and took in the sight of Crowley, who looked almost childlike, still in his underwear, his hair sticking out in all directions, his eyes uncovered. Aziraphale always loved when he got to see Crowley’s eyes. Maybe now, he hoped, he would get to see them more often. Now that they could spend more time in private.

“Can’t say I ever really paid attention,” Crowley said, “but this does look quite spectacular.”

Aziraphale beamed proudly and reached his hand out to Crowley, who took it. Aziraphale pulled him in for a quick kiss.

Any remnants of sleep still lingering on Crowley immediately vanished. Now that he was feeling so refreshed, and Aziraphale had made himself so at home in Crowley’s kitchen, he was also feeling quite a bit more confident. He cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hands and kissed him like he’d always wanted to, unrestrained by expectations or fear.

Neither of them really knew what they were doing, of course, but they figured it out together, starting slow, feeling each other out, and becoming more adventurous. Crowley slipped his tongue between Aziraphale’s lips. It came as a pleasant surprise to Aziraphale, who took a fistful of the front of Crowley’s shirt to bring him in closer. His free hand slid along the newly uncovered skin at Crowley’s hips and around to his lower back.

They settled into a rhythm, and carried on until the smell of smoke found its way into Aziraphale’s nose.

He grabbed Crowley’s shoulders and peeled him off. “My quiche!” 

The corners of Crowley’s mouth turned down. “What?”

Aziraphale opened the oven and his face crumpled when smoke billowed out of it. “Oh, my quiche, Crowley, it’s ruined.”

“Don’t worry, darling, it’s only a quiche. Whatever that is.” He came up beside the angel and wrapped his arm around to Aziraphale’s side, slipping his thumb under the waist of his trousers. Good Lord, his skin was soft. He wished Aziraphale would stop focusing on the damn breakfast and pay attention to him instead. 

Aziraphale was far too upset to notice. “It’s an egg dish, Crowley,” he complained. “It’s  _ French.  _ I spent so much time on it, and the eggs were from the nicest farmer’s chickens, and he gave them to me for such a good price.”

Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s temple. “There’s plenty of food here, love. And I’m sure the quiche will taste just fine. If not, you can always try again next Tuesday, yeah?”

Aziraphale’s eyes flicked to Crowley’s face. “Do…” He knew he needed to tread carefully. “Do you think I’ll still be here next Tuesday?”

“Oh. Well, I…” Crowley searched for words. “I wouldn’t mind if you were. I suppose you’ll be able to get back to your place tomorrow, but…”

“But?”

“You’re welcome here anytime you’d like, angel.”

Aziraphale allowed himself a small smile. “I wouldn’t be in your way? I would hate to impose.”

“You could never.” He came in for another kiss, and Aziraphale leaned into it at first, but couldn’t quite forget about the quiche.

“Crowley!” He scolded. “Stop trying to distract me, demon.”

“Oh, alright. Why don’t you just miracle a quiche? Why spend all this effort and get all worked up about it?”

“Because I wanted to make it, Crowley! I wanted to make you breakfast.” Aziraphale took the quiche out of the oven and looked down sadly at it. The crust was blackened and the top looked all wrong. “It’s a disgrace!” he cried.

“Angel.” Crowley took the quiche from Aziraphale, put it on the stovetop, and turned Aziraphale around to show him the elaborate spread of food on the counter. “Look at all this. We don’t need a quiche. You’ve made me an incredible breakfast already.”

Aziraphale didn’t want to let the quiche go, but he couldn’t help smiling. “Yes, alright. I suppose this will do.” He took a chilled bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and filled the champagne flutes.

They sat at the counter on stools and dug in. Crowley made sure to eat very expressively, mmm-ing and complimenting with everything he tasted.

“You know,” he said around a mouthful of chocolate eclair, “I think this is the first time this kitchen’s ever been used.”

“What on earth have you been eating all this time?”

“I only eat with you,” Crowley said. 

That made Aziraphale blush. “Well, it’s a great honor.” 

The angel and the demon had spent countless hours together during their time on Earth, but their meetings had nearly always had an element of tension and fear of getting caught, planned in secret and kept fairly short. As they got further and further removed from their respective head offices, they had allowed themselves the occasional indulgence of dining out together and meeting purely for enjoyment and without the guise of having official business. Today, though, was entirely different. They could spend the whole day together, and not once feel the need to lower their voices or glance over their shoulders.

When they finished with breakfast, the farmer’s market still had a few hours left, so Aziraphale dragged Crowley down with him and Crowley trailed behind him as he visited all the stands for the second time that day. Crowley really didn’t have anything to say to any of these people, but he was more than happy to watch Aziraphale and stand by his side as he went around and spoke enthusiastically with everyone he came across. 

They stayed until the afternoon, when the market finally began to close down. They continued on walking, wandering down streets and into shops. Crowley was glad they’d entered a time when humans had once again given up on their disapproval of same-gender relationships. If any other pedestrians or shopkeepers gave them an odd look, Crowley assumed, it was either because of Aziraphale’s excessively formal outfit or because they were jealous of how good they looked together. Now that Aziraphale wasn’t worried about what the other angels would think of him spending time with a demon, he’d stopped caring what humans thought, too, though he certainly didn’t  _ mind  _ that Crowley couldn’t keep his hands off him and that the occasional human would glance their way when Crowley’s hand slid around Aziraphale’s waist or his lips found Aziraphale’s ear. 

Drunk on giddiness and red wine, they stumbled into Crowley’s apartment after dining in a hole in the wall place that Aziraphale could just tell would be lovely. He had been right; the owners had been so delighted by the pair that they doted on them completely, and even made dishes for Aziraphale that weren’t on the menu.

“You really have a knack for finding good restaurants, don’t you?” Crowley mused, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it by the door. “Maybe instead of running a bookshop that doesn’t sell books, you could be a food critic.” He took off his tie and hung that up too, and kicked off his shoes. Aziraphale just watched him, wobbling slightly. “Of course, it would just be you raving about every single place you tried. Which,” he continued, pushing his sunglasses up and smiling around his words, “would be a delight to read.”

Aziraphale came at him suddenly, shoving Crowley against the door with enough force that it startled him, but gentle enough that it didn’t hurt. And any hint of pain that did appear was quickly healed by the fact that Aziraphale’s gaze was fixed intently on Crowley’s mouth, and his hands grasped tightly to Crowley’s shirt.

Crowley tried not to smile. “Have I offended you?”

Aziraphale’s eyes flicked up to Crowley’s. “Offended me? Heavens no, you’re being entirely too sweet.”

Crowley didn’t think he’d ever tire of the angel calling him sweet. He hooked a finger under Aziraphale’s chin and brought him in for a kiss. When they drew apart, Aziraphale’s eyes trailed down to focus on the bit of skin at the top of Crowley’s chest, where he’d left a couple buttons undone.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale began, releasing his grip on Crowley’s shirt and smoothing down the fabric. His fingers fluttered around Crowley’s collar, like he couldn’t decide if he should touch it or not. “I wonder if I could…” Crowley watched him with amusement, patiently waiting for him to spit it out. Finally Aziraphale’s fingers landed, gently holding Crowley’s collar and pressing down slightly against the top button, hinting at what he wanted. 

“What is it, angel?” Crowley slung his arms around Aziraphale’s neck.

Aziraphale frowned at Crowley’s insistence at playing dumb. He took on an air of nonchalance. “I just thought perhaps all the wine had made you a touch warm, is all, and maybe you’d like to lose a few buttons.”

“Ah, so it’s all for my benefit, then,” Crowley teased. He snuck in a quick peck to Aziraphale’s nose. “You can undo as many as you’d like, love.” 

Cheeks flushing pink, Aziraphale fumbled with Crowley’s buttons. He didn’t undo them all- just a few, just enough. 

Crowley watched him closely, enjoying the angel’s soft fingers brushing lightly against his skin. “Like what you see?”

Aziraphale, whose eyes had not left the newly visible triangle of Crowley’s skin, gulped and took a step back. 

“What would you say to a dance?”

With a slight bow, Crowley extended a hand to his angel, who took it and pulled him into the next room.

The record Aziraphale miracled up was a sort of odd mix of what they had listened to the night before with a few new things sprinkled in, but all the songs were slow, requiring Crowley and Aziraphale to be wrapped up together, moving just enough so they could still call it dancing. Occasionally, Aziraphale would get particularly inspired by a melody and would add in a little twirl, looping Crowley under his arm, or a dip deep enough that Crowley’s long waves brushed the floor. Crowley relished those dips- the brief rush of falling, only to be caught safely and to look up at Aziraphale’s kind face barely an inch away.

During one dip in particular, Crowley noticed something had changed. There was something different in the way Aziraphale’s hand supported his back, something new and dark about Aziraphale’s eyes. Aziraphale held Crowley there a moment longer than usual. He licked his lips and let his eyes trail down the exposed skin on Crowley’s torso. He’d wanted to kiss Crowley hard, before, when he’d had him against the wall, wanted to rip the buttons open, and...well, he’d had to stop his mind from going further than that.

Now, though, despite the wine from dinner having almost fully worn off naturally, he couldn’t help himself. He swooped Crowley back up and held him firmly.

“Crowley, dear?”

“Yes, angel?”

“You did say I could undo more buttons?”

Crowley smirked. He hadn’t expected Aziraphale to go this fast, but he didn’t mind it at all. All day he’d been stealing little touches and kisses, exploring bits of Aziraphale he hadn’t been allowed to even think about before. But he’d tried not to linger too long, lest it should make Aziraphale uncomfortable. Now the only thing making Aziraphale uncomfortable was the way Crowley was looking at him and not saying anything.

“I did. And you can.”

Aziraphale looked quite pleased, and hastily untucked Crowley’s shirt and unbuttoned it all the way down. Crowley smiled happily as he did so, and pressed their foreheads together. It was surprising enough last night to hear that Aziraphale loved him, and to realize Aziraphale wanted him like _this _was an entirely different feeling.

Once his shirt was fully open, Aziraphale allowed himself the indulgence of resting his hands against Crowley’s bare chest and letting them slide down his stomach and to his hips. “You’re so…” he whispered. Crowley’s stomach did a little flip. 

Aziraphale slid his arms around Crowley’s torso and kissed him, his fingertips digging into Crowley’s shoulder blades as he slipped his tongue between his lips. Crowley melted into him, draping his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and leaning against him with intensity, as if trying to worm his way through Aziraphale’s layers to get to his skin.

And then, all of a sudden, the layers weren’t there anymore.

Crowley leapt back as soon as he realized what he’d done. “ _ Fuck,  _ angel, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He tried to avert his eyes, but damn if Aziraphale didn’t look  _ good  _ standing there in just his trousers, soft, but strong too, and irresistable. And Crowley certainly hadn’t noticed the little almost-white curls sprinkled across the angel’s chest, making his skin look tan in comparison.

“Quite alright, darling, it was bound to happen soon enough.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley back against him and pushed Crowley’s shirt off his shoulders. “This only seems fair, though, doesn’t it?” Crowley nodded and let his shirt slide off and onto the floor.

They kissed again, for a long time- it was an entirely different experience now that they could feel so much of each other’s skin. Aziraphale felt so delightfully warm compared Crowley’s naturally cool temperature that Crowley tried to press every bare bit of his own skin against Aziraphale’s. 

Eventually the record player stopped, and again Aziraphale took it as a cue to separate from Crowley. This time, however, instead of going off to make more drinks, he scooped Crowley up, so Crowley had to tighten his grip around his neck, and his long legs dangled over Aziraphale’s arm.

“What has gotten into you?” Crowley asked adoringly.

“I just thought perhaps we might be more comfortable in the bedroom?”

Crowley felt heat building in his core. “Perhaps we might.”

He allowed himself to be carried to his bed, which Aziraphale carefully set him down on. Aziraphale climbed over, so he was on all fours, hovering above Crowley. 

“Crowley,” he whispered, taking in the sight of Crowley’s hair framing his face like a halo of flames against the gray pillowcase, the way the sharp angles of his face failed to disguise the kindness in his eyes, the way his throat moved when he swallowed. He went to kiss that delicate, exposed throat, but Crowley interrupted him.

“Angel?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I just...you sort of froze for a moment there.”

Aziraphale smiled down at him. “Oh, my dear, just taking you in.”

“What? What’s there to take in?”

Aziraphale looked about offended as he would if Crowley said he didn’t like crepes. But then he softened, and gently stroked the hair around Crowley’s face. “Crowley,” he said. “My Crowley.” He leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead. “You are so  _ beautiful _ , and so good, and kind, and I feel as though I could spend all my days taking you in.”

Crowley stared at him for a moment, taking his time to process. Then he yanked Aziraphale’s face down to his and kissed him. 

“And did I mention,” Aziraphale gasped between kisses, “that you are, as humans would say, hot.” Crowley moaned into his mouth, and that was about all Aziraphale could take. “Crowley,” he began again, moving his hand to Crowley’s hip, “do you think I could see all of you?”

“I’m yours, angel, you can see anything you like.” Aziraphale smiled that adorable, close-lipped smile, and shimmied off Crowley’s trousers and pants and then his own, just to keep it fair, and knelt at Crowley’s feet at the end of the bed.

Again, Crowley had to endure Aziraphale just  _ staring  _ at him, and now that he was fully naked, he felt almost unbearably exposed. But that look on Aziraphale’s face was not something Crowley would ever tire of.

“Crowley, I…” Aziraphale’s eyes wandered all over Crowley’s body, flitting from one spot to the next. “I can’t get enough of you, I just want to…” He hovered his hands over Crowley, like he was afraid to touch. But Crowley could see Aziraphale, too, and he wanted those hands, that body, on him. He reached down for his hands and yanked him back up so they were face to face again.

“I’ll gladly give you all of me,” Crowley said. An unfamiliar look crossed Aziraphale’s face, and then he devoured Crowley, kissing him  _ everywhere _ , his hands roaming wildly, not leaving a single bit untouched as Crowley trembled and moaned beneath him. Crowley’s hips bucked up when he reached his inner thigh, and so Aziraphale paid a little extra attention to the delicate skin there. Crowley could hardly bear the anticipation as Aziraphale moved so damned slowly to where he was wet and hot and wanted him most.

When he got there, Aziraphale breathed in deeply - taking him in - like he was walking past a bakery. “Heavenly.” 

Crowley whimpered and pushed his hips down, trying to get himself closer. Aziraphale took the hint and continued his kisses. Any pretense of taking things slow was lost once he got a taste of Crowley. He lifted his eyes to look at the demon, who watched his expression shift from adoration to hunger. “My dear, you taste…” He slipped his tongue into Crowley to get another sample and paused, mulling it over like a food critic. Crowley stared down at him, a mix of intense embarrassment and arousal. “Well, I’m sure there are no words to describe it, but my, you are a delicacy.” And he dove back in.

He had never been this close to a vulva, or genitals of any kind, really, including his own, which were reacting in a way he was quite unfamiliar with and he was choosing to overlook for the time being, but it was impossible to miss the way Crowley’s entire body tensed up when Aziraphale’s lips found his clit.

Aziraphale looked back up at Crowley to find him biting his lip, and his face all scrunched up. “Was that alright, love?” His lips brushed Crowley’s skin as he spoke, and Crowley wriggled against him in frustration.

_ “Yes,”  _ he groaned, “yes, there, angel, don’t  _ stop.” _

Aziraphale had been completely hard for a while now, but getting that reaction from Crowley was making his efforts to ignore it nearly impossible.

“Oh, right, sorry dear.” He placed his lips around Crowley’s clit, yet another kiss, and flicked his tongue against it, drawing a low moan from Crowley. Crowley’s fingers clung to his hair, and Aziraphale let him guide his movements with sharp tugs. 

When he was uncontrollably twitching and couldn’t take the sensation anymore, Crowley pulled Aziraphale back up to him. Aziraphale hovered over him and licked his lips.

“Alright, my love?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, sliding his hand down the angel’s torso. He couldn’t ignore Aziraphale’s cock anymore either. There was great pleasure to be found in observing Aziraphale’s face as Crowley touched it for the first time, tentative and gentle. He dragged a couple fingers up the shaft, Aziraphale trembling all the while, until he reached the tip. It was slick, and Crowley mischievously decided to give Aziraphale a taste of his own medicine. He brought a wet finger to his lips, made a show of savoring Aziraphale’s flavor, and brought his finger back out of his mouth with a pop. Aziraphale stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

Crowley grinned, stole a quick kiss to Aziraphale’s bottom lip, and then rolled over the awestruck angel so that Aziraphale was pinned beneath his hips. 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale whispered, his hands finding Crowley’s hips.

“What is it, angel?” Crowley went to work on Aziraphale’s neck, biting and sucking and breathing him in as Aziraphale fumbled through an incoherent jumble of sounds.

_ “Crowley,”  _ Aziraphale eventually insisted. He peeled Crowley off him by the shoulders and looked desperately at him. “I need…”

“Of course, angel,” Crowley said, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. He shifted his position to sink himself slowly onto Aziraphale, and they moaned in unison. Aziraphale grasped Crowley’s hips, the pads of his fingers pressing hard into the soft skin, but he let Crowley take his time getting comfortable and finding the right rhythm. As Crowley rocked against him, Aziraphale progressively lost all restraint, and was soon digging his fingers into Crowley, no doubt leaving bruises. 

Looking down at Aziraphale’s sweaty, concentrated face was remarkably enjoyable for Crowley, but with a subtle shift of his hips, Aziraphale’s cock began to hit a spot inside him that sent a new jolt of pleasure up his spine with each thrust. He gasped and clenched around Aziraphale, who had been trying to hold off, last a little longer, but couldn’t resist anymore.

The angel came with a strangled cry of Crowley’s name. His arms fell to the bed as he relaxed, panting, and looked up with wonder at Crowley, who gazed back down at him, one corner of his mouth hitched up in a delighted smirk. Crowley moved off Aziraphale’s softening length and slithered up to wrap his arms around him and give him a deep kiss. One knee slipped between Aziraphale’s, and he groaned into Aziraphale’s mouth as he ground against his thigh. Aziraphale leaned into the wet heat, and then slid his fingers between Crowley’s legs to find his clit again, all while slipping his tongue into Crowley’s mouth and gently nipping at his lips. He rubbed and drew circles and caught all of Crowley’s moans on his tongue until Crowley was spasming in his hand. Crowley pressed his forehead against the angel’s cheek and clung to him tightly as the orgasm rushed through him.

Aziraphale kissed the top of Crowley’s head as his breathing slowed and returned to normal. “I love you,” he whispered into his hair.

Crowley lifted his head to look at his angel as the realization of everything that had just happened hit him like a wave. After all these years, finally, they were here, where Crowley had always wanted them to be but never allowed himself the indulgence of even imagining. “I love you, too,” was all he could say to express it all.

They laid there for a while, limbs entangled, silently relishing the feeling of being so close. “What now?” Crowley finally asked softly.

Aziraphale smiled. “Well,” he said, “tomorrow I suppose I should go to the shop, just to make sure they didn’t ruin anything.”

Crowley sighed, knowing that it was too much to expect Aziraphale to move in all of a sudden, but still wishing for it.

“And maybe you could come with me.” Crowley lifted his head to look at Aziraphale’s face, just to be certain he understood what he meant. Aziraphale touched the tip of his nose to Crowley’s. “...and maybe we could do this again?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at parsnipnectar, where at this point I'm mostly just reblogging Good Omens art and stuff. wahoo


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